


The Rosebud's Thorns Job

by silverpetals97



Series: Queens Consulting & Associates [2]
Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Leverage Fusion, Gen, and parr is... well. she's a par(r)t of this too, grifter!jane, hacker!anne, hitter!anna, mastermind!lina, thief!kat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:00:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25819978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverpetals97/pseuds/silverpetals97
Summary: Following the events ofThe Rosebud Job,our ragtag team of criminals attempt to figure out their next moves, along with dragging two new players into the game: a renowned, "retired" con artist, and the person they stole from in the first place.(note: this fic was previously titled "Let's Go Get Mum," which i'm expanding on with two more chapters here and a prequel of sorts in this series.)
Series: Queens Consulting & Associates [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1945366
Comments: 8
Kudos: 55





	The Rosebud's Thorns Job

As she and her… _criminal associates_ managed to slip out of the hospital and away from the incoming police by the skin of their teeth, Catalina de Aragon had come to conclude that Henry Tudor was one of the cruelest, most twisted bastards she’d ever met in her life.

Her group piled into the nearest car that Boleyn or Anna no doubt hijacked without a second thought. Lina’s head still throbbed from the explosion. The hospital did what they could, but unfortunately that didn’t include complete pain relief.

The others weren’t spared from injury, either. She was certain Boleyn had been limping out, as much as she’d tried to hide it, while Anna had a nasty burn mark seared into her arm. A bluing mark adorned Kat’s cheek, and she was sure that hadn’t been there prior to them getting screwed over.

Ah, yes. They were screwed over by that Tudor rat… 

Lina had been so lost in thought that they’d already stumbled into a spacious flat when she came back to her senses. Classical paintings framed in silver and gold lined the pristine white walls of the living room. A wide screen television hung across from the doorway, with an L-shaped couch facing towards it. It was the image of luxury—or it would have been if the occupant didn’t have several neon bean bags laying around the couch.

“Whose place is this?” she wondered aloud.

“Mine,” Boleyn responded with an air of nonchalance. The bean bags should’ve been a dead giveaway, but Lina wasn’t any less surprised. At her expression, Boleyn added, “Yeah, yeah, Ari. Who would’ve thought that I could have a flat nice as this, blah blah blah.”

She had to roll her eyes at that. It was impressive, she’ll give her that.

“So, what do we do now?” Kat asked.

Boleyn cracked her knuckles. “Four first class tickets to anywhere but here, coming right up,” she quipped, but her mood quickly darkened. She groaned. “I wanna beat Tudor so bad that even the people who so much as _look_ at 'im ‘re gonna bleed.”

“You wouldn’t be able to get within a hundred meters of him. He knows what you look like, and security’ll be on high alert after what we did,” Anna said, adjusting her jacket. “Maybe there’s a slim chance he actually thinks he got rid of us, but I don’t think he’s the type to relax until he knows we’re gone.”

“He tried to kill us,” Kat mumbled.

“But more importantly, he didn’t pay us,” Boleyn said, green eyes still trained on her laptop.

Three other faces scrunched up in confusion. “How is that more important?”

Boleyn shrugged, about to respond, but stopped herself short. Her eyes narrowed. “Tudor and Catherine Parr _are_ heads of rival companies, no doubt about that. But listen here: there’s years of internal information on that project, way down in the code. No reason to fake those, mate. This is all Parr.”

“So we didn’t steal Henry’s plans back?” Kat asked.

Anna shook her head. “Nope. We just stole ‘em from Parr.”

“What? But… why the lie?”

Silence fell throughout the room for a moment. The cogs in Lina’s head were turning.

“Criminals,” she pieced together. “If he hired you lot for straight-up theft, it would raise suspicion. This way dear old Henry Tudor would still maintain his perfectly clean reputation.”

“Here we go… I have everyone’s tickets and new identities ready,” Boleyn announced.

“Hold on. You were serious about that?”

Boleyn paused. “Dead serious, mate.”

“You’re all… running away.”

“‘Course we are,” Anna said, looking over to Kat. “Not like we have a choice.”

Kat piped up, “Unless you have a better idea?”

A smile crept up Lina’s face. “We could run, or… we could get back what’s owed to us.”

She could practically hear the crickets, it was so silent.

Boleyn scoffed. “You—you wanna run a con on this guy, Ari?” No doubt the hacker would have ever thought she was going to make this move.

“He’s the best kind of mark,” she mused. “He thinks he’s smart. Greedy…”

“But what’s in it for us?” Anna asked.

“Oh, you know. Revenge. And if we succeed, lots of money.”

“Well, you know me, Ari. I'm in.”

“Bloody hell,” Anna mumbled, and in a clearer voice: “Me too.”

“Kat?”

The teenager nodded.

Boleyn quirked an eyebrow. “What’s in it for you?”

Lina sighed. “He used my daughter.” She pushed the thought toward the back of her mind. Didn’t need to deal with _that_ again right now. “All right, we need a fresh face. Oh, and get Parr while we’re at it.”

“Parr? What do we need her for?”

“She deserves to know, and she’s smart. Plus, Parr knows Tudor better than we do. They’ve been at it for years, after all. We could use some of her knowledge.”

“Oh,” Boleyn said, and promptly resumed (to what Lina assumed was) cancelling flight tickets. A comfortable silence fell among the four of them, until—

“So, we need a con artist?” Kat chirped.

“Do you know anyone?”

The girl nodded, eyes bright. “Come on, let’s go get Mum!”

Anna blinked. “What?”

Kat was out the door before another word could be uttered.

“Boleyn, you stay here for Parr,” Lina shouted as she left the flat, Anna trailing behind her.

Lina didn’t think anyone could act as badly as the woman on stage before them. Somehow she was cast as the lead, yet not a word she’s said actually sounded genuine. She paused, stuttering a few times, other times completely forgetting lines.

Anna mumbled something under her breath. “Is she injured? You know, in the head?”

“No offense, Kat, but your mother is the worst actress I’ve ever seen,” Lina deadpanned.

Kat grinned sheepishly. “None taken. Um, this… this isn’t really her stage, so to speak. And she’s n—never mind.”

After an entire hour that was probably more painful than her headache had been, the three stood at the covert alleyway by the theatre, just a little ways away from the backstage door. A light gale ruffled Kat’s hair, but the teen paid no mind to it, simply watching the door like a puppy.

“Aragon, you sure it’s a good idea to let her into the con?”

“We do need a fresh face.”

“Yeah, I get that. But _her_? She was awful.”

“Mum!” Kat beamed as she ran over to embrace the recent arrival. “You were fantastic!”

“Eh. Thank you, love.” The blonde glanced up. “Who are your friends, Kat?”

“Oh, right. These are Lina and Anna. Guys, Jane Seymour. We need a grifter for our con on Henry Tudor.”

“ _Kat!_ ” Lina hissed.

“A grifter, hm?” Seymour laughed. “Love, I’m a citizen now. An _honest_ citizen.”

“Please? Henry Tudor is a really, really bad guy. He tried to kill us!”

At that, Seymour’s face contorted into a scowl. “He _what_?”

“And he manipulated us.”

“All right,” Seymour assented. “He deserves a little bruise to his ego, no?”

Kat cheered. “Yes!”

All right, they have their fresh face. And while she had trust in the girl after what they went through, Lina still desperately hoped Kat was making the right decision, for all their sakes.

The group of four had walked into Anne Boleyn, zooming around in her beloved Heelys. A young woman with curly hair and a blue hoodie, Catherine Parr, scrolled through her phone, sitting in an awkward position. It was late at night, but somehow she hadn’t expected such a distinguished CEO to show up in a hoodie and sweatpants. When her soft brown eyes met Lina's, Parr blinked in surprise.

“Cathy, they’re back!” Boleyn yelled, though her lithe tone was soon replaced with an aggressive one. “Oi, who decided it was a good idea to bring _Jane Seymour_ into the con?”

“Hello, Anne,” Seymour greeted calmly. “Long time no see.”

Lina mumbled words under her breath that she was ashamed to even repeat out loud.

“Fantastic. Just bloody fantastic,” Boleyn snarled. “Ari, we can’t have this—this _bi_ —”

Seymour covered Kat’s ears. “Language, Anne.”

“I’m not a child—”

“She’ll just stab us in the back!”

Lina’s lips instinctively parted. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t surprised by that. Perhaps there was more to Seymour than she’d initially thought.

“Anne Boleyn, it was not that simple and you know it.”

“Shut it,” Lina snapped, “both of you. I don’t want either of you fighting over your histories. Seymour’s already agreed. She’s in.”

“Uh, is that wise?” Parr cut in, eyebrows knitted in confusion. “Just, from what Anne says…”

Lina sighed. She hoped it was. She vaguely motioned to the television screen, where Boleyn had set up her presentation on the case. “Run it, Boleyn.”

The verdant girl rushed her presentation, peppering in glares toward Seymour. “… and that’s about it.”

Parr looked over to Lina for a moment, then back over to the others. “Why… why is she smiling like that?”

Boleyn grinned. “What’d ya have in mind, Ari?”

“I’m thinking Italians,” Lina beamed. “Yes, Italians will do nicely.”


End file.
